


Welcome to the Jungle Nightmare

by Tezca



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anathema drives more like Crowley than Aziraphale if he ever drove, Aziraphale Being an Idiot (Good Omens), Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Gen, Horror, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-26 23:14:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21108758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tezca/pseuds/Tezca
Summary: Crowley's flat is alive with the sound of man eating plants, Anathema is a speed demon, and Aziraphale is an idiot without meaning to.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this fic for a weekly prompt from the Ineffable Outliers discord server that had to do with Crowley's plants becoming more alive and getting revenge on Crowley.
> 
> I know having a character be a male witch isn't exactly an unique idea but I was thinking of a separate fic in another fandom when I made a vague ass subtle reference and got inspiration from. The fic is a BTS witch AU fic called [If I Bleed Red](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18350462/chapters/43445843) by Astrone. Go check it out, it good! Just couldn't help myself a bit cause of the witch connection with Good Omens lol
> 
> And last but not least, the two songs referenced in here are from Black Magic Woman by Carlos Santana and A Kind of Magic by Queen.

This was unlike Crowley. Aziraphale knew in his heart that it was. They have been together more often in the years after the failed End of Days than before. Enough to the point where they could generally date events of their own little world as Before Armageddon and After Armageddon. Crowley would’ve very much told him if he was going to be gone for longer than a week or so. And even then Crowley still would’ve called him.

He knew Aziraphale would get riddled with anxiety and worry that something terrible had happened to his demon. Even more so for Crowley. Aziraphale didn’t get the dreaded feeling that something was wrong until the end of the seventh day. Oh how he hated this. Millions of what ifs ran through his mind, it only served to make him sweat with panic with each scenario.

Did Hell finally caught on to their little scheme all those years ago? If so then did someone ambushed him and rained Holy Water upon them. Hell would be desecrated by the time he was done with them if that were the case. At first Aziraphale kept himself from acting upon his worries by a mental note that Crowley was surely ok. He didn’t want to overreact. Finally, however, it got to the point where Aziraphale couldn’t take it any longer. 

He tried to call him - message box was full.

He tried his cell - phone was dead.

His panic for Crowley’s well being - increased to ‘St. James Park in the 19th century’ levels.

All that cultivated to the scene before him.

An abnormal amount of plants covered the living room. Ivys, vines, ferns covered what was usually a wide open space of drab dark colors. Now it looked as if this place was abandoned long enough. Thing is it most definitely wasn’t abandoned. Plus he could still sense an occult presence somewhere deep in this urban foliage.

The sense was troubling though, hummed like an unidentified noise that served to be nothing but ominous. Like a faraway noise that beckoned whoever listened to find just exactly where the hell it came from. It gave Aziraphale the sense that Crowley was in pain. It was a desperate call for help. His gut sank and he felt like he just took a dive into the deep cold waters of the North Pole. 

He metaphorically dived down even further when he took a close look at the nearby vines. He can’t take a step more than a few paces beyond the doorway, it was that densely packed. And somehow some of those vines appeared to move slowly towards him. Like they pulsated with newfound sentience. 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as Aziraphale took a slight step backwards. He may not know much about plants, but he knew enough that they weren’t supposed to be _this_ alive. And they didn’t exactly give off a welcoming vibe either.

How the hell did Crowley’s plants managed to look so...so bloodthirsty. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale yelled, voice wrought with worry. How the hell was he going to get to Crowley through this? He waited for a reply that didn’t come so he yelled his name again. Again it was in vain, “Oh dear….” He muttered fearfully. 

And it didn’t help matters that more and more of the plants started to inch their way towards. Aziraphale slowly backed up more towards the foot of the door, his hands up in a placated gesture. He thought he would try and calm them down but alas the angel was oblivious to just how much of a vendetta Crowley’s plants have, “It’s alright, I-I won’t hurt you...please I’m just, um..here to make sure Crowley is alright and-” 

The vines suddenly zoomed out of the lush green cluster in the middle of the room towards him with frightening velocity. A shot of adrenaline fueled Aziraphale’s celestial core. It prompted him to scurry back out and slammed the door shut without a moment to lose. He felt cold sweat pour over his body as a sense of great urgency overtook him. 

This was frightfully not good, just what was going on? Instinctively his right hand reached around to his left as if he was about to brandish a sword. But then he remembered, he gave it to the postman the night they saved the world. Aziraphale groaned pitifully, this was one of those rare, rare moments where he wishes he still had it. 

Otherwise, he would run right back in and fight back with fire. Plants don’t do too well against fire. But then again, building don’t tend to do well with flames either. 

“Oh dear what do I do, what do I do…” Aziraphale muttered out loud before he caught sight of his hands. Of course! He can just simply snap them away! Why didn’t he think of that before? Silly angel. He proceeded to cautiously open the door just wide enough to slip his hand in. 

He snapped and….

Nothing. 

Fuck.

Aziraphale widen his eyes in terror as all that did was make the plants more angrier. A moment of silence passed before the vines shot out once again and he slammed the door shut. He had snapped up some deadbolts for good measure, it wouldn’t be good if the plants were to escape.


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t know what to do Anathema, the plants are alive! I-I never seen anything like it and-and they got poor Crowley trapped in there!” Aziraphale paced in a small circle in her living room. He stopped and faced her as he bemoaned, “I pray tell you have something that can help me here...I already feel ever so bad for going this long while realizing what exactly happened!”

Anathema listened and looked to be aimlessly in thought before she perked up, “I believe there is a way to rescue Crowley, its in one of my books, I’ll have to check,” Anathema quickly ran into a room nearby that served as her own mini library. While this was all going on, Newt had came back from the store.

“Oh hello Mr. Aziraphale sir,” Newt awkwardly said, he hoped that was a respectful way to address an angel.

“Hello Newt, I am sorry for coming unexpectedly. I needed Anathema’s, um, expertise,” He explained just as Anathema came back out excitedly. Newt just nodded and moved to put the groceries away. 

“I found it!” Aziraphale’s attention shifted back to the American witch once he heard her voice.

“That’s wonderful! What does it say?” Aziraphale said as he hurried over to her side. Anathema had the book open and the two glanced at the page.

“It can be controlled via blood magic so I can easily destroy them. Well I hope at least, I haven’t used it in so long to be honest,” Anathema admitted with a sigh, “Bad news is if we don’t get there right away then Crowley’s life force would be completely drained!”

“WHAT?!” Aziraphale gasped as he looked at her with a look of terror.

“Plants can slowly gain sentience in the presence of power, no matter the source. How the plants would act completely depends on how the magic user treats them. And I heard Crowley yell at his plants once or twice when I visited him so....”

The unspoken implication hung in the air as a moment of silence passed between them. 

Aziraphale clasped his hands on her shoulders,“Right not a moment to lose then Anathema!” 

Anathema nodded and ran into her bedroom to get her satchel. She put the book in there as well as several other tools just in case. Newt just walked back out right into Anathema. She quickly explained, “We’ll have to take a rain check on the romantic date. Crowley got into a bit of a problem.”

“Uhh, sure no problem. What happened?”

“His plants are alive and they want his blood,” She plainly said as if this wasn’t the biggest thing to happen in their reality. Then again they were all at the forefront of the Apocalypse. That alone tended to not have one too fazed at other surreal situations. Anathema gave him a kiss on the cheek, “I’ll be back tomorrow at the latest.”

“Alright.” Newt simply said as he watched Anathema and Aziraphale rush out the door.

Anathema hurried down the steps with Aziraphale right behind her. The Bentley was right outside the gate (It was thanks to both the car and his powers that he got to Jasmine Cottage in one piece). 

“Ah wait perhaps I should drive,” Aziraphale suggested as he followed her around to the drivers side. Anathema turned around and gave him a certain look that would tell anyone that what they just said was dumb.

“You want Crowley to be alive right? No offense but you drive slower than my childhood cat. And she didn’t move around all that much.” She deadpanned.

Aziraphale let out a complete affronted gasp, “How dare-” He started as Anathema opened the door and quickly got in. He instead settled for a sharp huff before he hastily made his way around to get on the passenger side.

Anathema put her hands on the wheel and suddenly a moment of hesitation flashed over her face. She temporarily froze behind the wheel, “Crowley would likely kill me for driving his car in any other circumstances.”

“I wager it would be the same with me. But this is dire enough for it to be an exception,” Aziraphale reasoned confidently.

“Yep, I agree.”

All Anathema had to do was chant a quick spell to start the car in lieu of an actual key and off they were. If a certain Principality hoped that it would be a relatively pleasant drive back to London…well it wasn’t the first time he assumed wrong. Anathema must’ve gotten a few of Crowley’s driving habits via osmosis as she barreled down the small country road out of Tadfield close to 95mph.

Now to explain how the car was at the frighteningly high speeds was simple. Due to Anathema friendship with Crowley, the Bentley had taken to include her in its small list of Drivers that they will make their experience pleasant. Well as much as a car can have its own list. That and the fact she had magic helped too. 

The Bentley decided to make its enjoyment known at this pleasantly newfound reality. Loudly much to Aziraphale exacerbation. But no one can blame the Bentley for acting like an excited kid in its on non organic way. It had been quite a while since Anathema took the wheel and this was her second time. 

“_...I got a black magic woman got me so blind I can’t see….”_

“_...That’s she’s a black magic woman. She’s trying to make a devil out of me…”_

Anathema’s gaze was dead set on the road ahead while Aziraphale gripped the roof of the car for dear life. It didn’t help settle his nerves that Anathema was erringly on the right side of the road. In America this would be just fine. However they were England which meant this was opposite of fine, “Anathema my dear you’re on the wrong side of the road!”

“Mierda you’re right!” Anathema matter of factual exclaimed as a corner came up. She proceeded to do a sharp turn which led to them skidding around. The motion caused Aziraphale to crash into the passenger door with a thwack.

“Would you kindly please drive a little slower?!” Aziraphale frantically protested. It wouldn’t do them any good if he got discorporated or Anathema got hurt. Luckily the music had lowered just enough for them to hear each other.

“A life is on the line! You, Tracy and Crowley are the only closest friends I have outside of Newt.”

Aziraphale stammered at first, “I truly get that my dear but you’re going near 100! And you’re human! You’re...uhh well, humans aren’t exactly....”

“We get hurt more easily I know,” Anathema replied nonchalantly as she glanced over at Aziraphale with a determined glint in her eye, “But I'm willing to take that risk.”

Just to accentuate her point, she magically cast a spell to enhance the Bentley’s maximum speed. Now they were going near 120mph. By this point, Aziraphale gripped the edge of the seat with his hands. Why couldn’t he had just teleported them back to Crowley’s flat? 


	3. Chapter 3

Anathema didn’t noticed she was on the wrong side of the road until she noticed a car headed their way. She immediately cussed and swerved to the left just in the nick of time. She received a loud angry honk in response.

“Fuck that driver,” Anathema said on impulse in a mood fit of road rage. Didn’t that person know that they were in a life or death situation!?

After a tense few seconds of silence, Aziraphale spoke up as he mentally prayed they get to Crowley’s safely, “Are you...are you sure you’re able to do blood magic?” He asked, he read one had to be powerful enough to be able to achieve that level. 

“Yes. I am the second known member of my family to utilize it. And it’s been centuries since the first one.”

“I see. Who was-" Aziraphale was abruptly distracted by an obnoxiously loud honk. Anathema had to swerve out of the way of an oncoming semi truck. The angel had to steady himself with a hand on the roof, “Anathema dear please do try to remember, we’re in England, it’s the left side!”

“I know that Aziraphale, habits are hard to break.”

“Pardon my tone of voice but you’ve been here since we stopped Armageddon! Surely you have to know by now-“Aziraphale mildly chastised as he held on for dear life.

“Knowing and actually getting used to it are two different things.” Anathema shot back with just the slightest audible edge to her voice. Her voice then soften to a sincere, friendly tone, “I’m working on it though.”

“That’s good to hear,” He put on a satisfactory tone. He also tried to look at her with a pleased smile but it was hard to do when one was in a car with an erratic driver, “So anyways, as I was about to ask...uhh what was it-Oh! Who was the first to um...well I just haven’t of any human that can do blood magic before.”

“Male witch ancestor," Anathema began as she rounded a curve in the road. Fast enough to leave skid marks on the road but of course they didn’t notice that, “Don’t know his name but he survived being burned at the stake…which I don’t know how he managed to do that!” Anathema exclaimed in sudden exasperation as she took a quick glance at Aziraphale. She let out another grunt of frustration as she gripped the wheel even tighter than what was humanly possible. 

The amount of cars had began to increase. Which meant only one thing, they were about to enter the M25. Thankfully the headaches brought on by traffic are mitigated when there was an ethereal being by one’s side. 

“Deal with a demon perhaps?” He asked lamely as he sent another mental prayer. This time not only for their safety, but for the continued out of sight, out of mind policy employed by Heaven. Called him a bit overly paranoid still but he didn’t want Heaven to bother him over the use of a miracle here. 

Then again both sides appeared to be forever afraid of them after the failed trials.

“I don’t fucking know. And if it was it wasn’t Crowley. I asked when we got drunk one night.” She casually explained. It was clear enough that it was enough of a bothersome mystery to her. 

“Thank someone for that I suppose,” Aziraphale sighed as he made sure that by celestial influence, they wouldn’t hit any cars or pedestrians. Anathema eventually jerked the wheel to the left and drove on the sidelines. This of course got a lot of angry honks and words directed her way.

Much to Aziraphale’s scandalized dismay, Anathema knew how to flip people off in England. She had made the V sign against the window, “Anathema!” 

“Gets the point across as Crowley might say.”

Aziraphale let out a weary sign with all the disapproval of a parent, “You know, if you were an angel you would still be considered as nothing but a child! And thus scolded accordingly.”

“Well good thing I’m not one then,” Anathema replied dryly which elicited another offended gasp from the blond.

“Anathema as your dear friend, I simply implore you to slow down a bit!”

“And then we end up arriving to find your husband as nothing more than a dried out lifeless demonic husk of a body?!” That might’ve came out a bit dramatic but there was truth to the statement.

Aziraphale stared at her for a few seconds before he conceded with a sign, “Just please watch the road at least. I’ll take care of the rest.” He added assuredly. 

“Alright deal.”

“I do have to say it’s like if Crowley had taught you how to drive back in America!” He commented out loud in mild dismay.

“Hmm, to be fair he did show me a few tricks several months ago,” Anathema confessed.

Aziraphale groaned and put his hands on his face as the Bentley started to play a - appropriately enough - Queen song. Just as loud as before. 

“_...it’s a kind of magic…”_

“_...The bell that rings inside your mind. Is challenging the doors of time…”_

“_...it’s a kind of magic…”_

_________________________

Anathema rushed up the stairs with Aziraphale not to far behind. He was still wound up from the fast paced travel. He can now pinpoint the evidence of what exactly Crowley show her how to do. He wouldn’t be surprised if he even taught her how to influence her chance for safety with her own witch based powers. Of course being a human she couldn’t do miracles the same way they can. But she can increase the odds of something happening in her favor. Or for anyone for that matter.

Anathema stopped short of the door and noticed the deadbolts. She looked over her shoulder at Aziraphale. The angel had to catch his breath before he finally faced her then noticed the reinforcements he had conjured up. Oh right, the extra locks.

Aziraphale raised his fingers, “Alright, I have to forewarn you dear Anathema, those plants looked downright _vicious_.”

Anathema looked at him with the best brave expression she can muster. Even if some parts of her wondered if she was able to do this,“We both looked up at Satan and survived, I think between the two of us we can handle a few man eating plants.”

“Oh I do hope so,” Aziraphale lamented before he snapped the deadbolts away. Anathema placed a careful hand on the doorknob and took a moment to steady her nerves. She closed her eyes and inhaled before she let it out slowly and opened her eyes. 

The door swung open only to reveal a dark green obstacle made up of incredible dense plant life. The mass of vines, having sensed newfound freedom, immediately shot out in front of her. Thankfully Anathema reacted fast enough to slam the door shut. A stunned moment of terror filled the air around them.

“What the fuck-what the fuck-what the _fuck_!?” Anathema exclaimed, horror stricken as she struggled to leaned against the door with all of her weight. She’d dealt with plants like this before but that was in a controlled environment when she practiced her powers in her teen years. And they were far fewer in numbers for that matter too. Few plants her ass, “Truly vicious plants is an understatement!”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried out in anguish. He immediately ran up and tried to help Anathema contain the horror plants into the flat. However they had other plants and the door creaked open. The hundreds upon hundreds of vines threatened to spill out into the hallway and onto greater world with insatiable bloodlust.

Aziraphale noticed with horror that several tendrils had made it out the small crack of the door. It quickly became apparent that the goal of a closed door started to be near impossible. Especially when more vines started to slip out with every extra inch of air as they pushed back. The strength of an angel and a human witch were no match at this point.

Not even when Aziraphale drew just enough angelic strength that didn’t require transformation did the door not get any closer to being locked shut. He made a split decision to suddenly hook one arm around Anathema and hold her over his shoulder. He can hear the door open with a voracious bang as he made a beeline towards the front door. 

However at the last possible moment, Aziraphale spun around at the foot of the steps and snapped his fingers. Suddenly the sea of green that rushed down the stairs became frozen in place. Just mere inches from his face. Aziraphale took a few deep breaths as he set Anathema down. She had to regain her breath as she rested her head on the angel’s shoulders for a brief moment. 


	4. Chapter 4

“What did...what happened?” Anathema asked, a bit confused, Aziraphale still had one protective arm around her.

“I froze time within the confines of this flat,” Aziraphale let go as he looked upon the deadly still sea of green death.

“Oh...” Anathema breath out as she worked to steady the thumping of her heart, “Ok...we can still do this, and you can help too,” She reached into her bag and took out a small needle. If there was any sign of nerves in her voice, she decided to ignore it. She knew as anyone else here that being unglued with overwrought fright won’t help Crowley. 

Aziraphale’s eyes shot wide open in full blown panic,“Me?! Anathema listen I’m an angel, not a witch!”

“No but you have powers don’t you?” Anathema countered back knowingly, “Anyone can do this as long as they can do magic. And the more powerful someone is, the easier it’ll be to control Audrey II’s out of control cousins here.” She gestured towards what used to be Crowley’s peaceful houseplants. Contained to only one room as the days passed on by.

While the reference was lost on Aziraphale, he did catch the gist of what she said. He nodded and looked at her for instruction, “Alright. What do we have to do?”

“First we have to draw a sigil in blood,” Anathema started as she pressed the needle across her finger. A steady line of blood appeared on the tip of it as she handed the small sewing implement over to Aziraphale, “Each user doing this have to contribute to the sigil. The sigil is therefore proportional to the amount of users.”

“Duly noted,” Aziraphale said. A moment of trepidation passed before he let loose his golden inchor, “So we’ll each do half.” 

The two bend down to to do their half. A good sized circled emerged with intricate sigils and ancient runes. After it was all finished the colors all intermingled so it appeared to be a golden accentuated shade.

“Ok now we both step onto our side of the circle and then I will make the incantation.” Anathema said. They both stepped forward at the same time and then looked at each other in a mutual sense of a lost on what exactly to do next.

Do they hold hands or does it matter?

“Do you know if we’re supposed to hold hands to ensure both parties control over this? The book never said anything about that.”

Aziraphale thought for a scant second or two before his face fell, it was moments like this where he wished he had some idea on what exactly to do. He may be an angel thousands of years old but that didn’t mean he had all the answers to how every spell should work. There was logic behind doing one or the other. On one hand, they would lessen the probability of any harmful side effects. the other, well, it would ensure the spell would activate - for lack of a better term - over him.

“I feel ever so bad that I don’t know if there are any harmful effects to this or not,” Aziraphale regretfully admitted. He didn’t want this to blow up in their faces in someway.

“Well there shouldn’t be. I mean if there was that surely my mother would’ve told me when she told me about this spell. Not to mention the book.”

Aziraphale nodded, she did have a good point. They would just have to really hope that this spell didn’t have the last laugh, “Oh, let’s just do it anyways. No time to really think about it.” He said as he held his hand out. The one where the ichorr now spread across his palm, “For Crowley.”

“Right. For Crowley,” Anathema smiled as she grabbed his with her own bloodied hand and closed her eyes once again. She took in a deep breath and started a rapid fire chant in a mixture of Latin and English.

The sigil activated and the two felt a surge of control wash over them. A faint earthy green glow surrounded them. Both of them can now see the extent of how far deep into Crowley’s flat the plants reached into. Aziraphale even swore he saw the faintest red tuft of hair trapped in a cocoon Once Anathema finished her chant, Aziraphale readied the fingers on his free hand. He was still nervous but at least now he had some semblance of an idea.

“I’m going to snap my fingers and time will resume. We won’t have any time to figure out anything else other than commanding the plants to stop. Do you understand?”

Anathema nodded, a surge of adrenaline flowed through her, “Yep. Count of three. One….two….three!”

A couple things happened in the split half a second that passed relatively to the angel and the witch. Aziraphale had snapped his fingers, thus time had resumed moving forward in the flat. Next, both he and Anathema moved their hands towards the sea of malevolent plants. All of a sudden the plants froze but this time due to the ability granted by Anathema’s spell.

Another thing had happened unbeknownst to Aziraphale and Anathema like a cruel joke underneath a veneer of everything will be fine. One that decided to wait until it was the most _fun_ to reveal itself. The latter had felt a surge of Love and great rejuvenation wash out to all parts of her body. Like if she was given a brand new body with all the appearance of a mid 20 year old without the kinks to back it up. Due to the main priority, Anathema just chalked up this sensation to nerves and renew confidence. 

Aziraphale was, in a way, speechless that this was easy enough. He had reckon it would’ve been tougher as these things tended to be. He even half expected to be some kind of a catch but what do they know, the plants are frozen stiff just as long as they both kept up their concentration.

“Ok now we just imagine every single plant in this vicinity and in the flat destroyed,” Anathema instructed.

A second later the vines and all the plants that covered every inch of Crowley’s flat dissipated into nothingness. The vines that had wrapped almost completely around Crowley and hung him up in the air disappeared, which caused the demon to drop unceremoniously on the ground below.

However, just as the spell ended, a sudden flash of memories flashed into Aziraphale’s mind. What memories? That he can’t tell exactly except they were filled with love, laughter and warm filled days of summers gone by in a city by the sea. He closed his eyes as he felt his knees buckle under the sharp migraine. He would’ve hit pavement but Anathema was able to catch him and hold him up. 

“Oh shit, shitshitshitshit…what’s going on? Are you ok?!” Anathema said with remorseful concern for her friend. She instantly regretted not practicing with this aspect of her magic more. She didn’t want to enact a spell that would end up harmful in someway afterwards.

Aziraphale tried to wave his hand to dismiss her concerns, “It’ll be alright just a-oh dear!” He grabbed the side of his head as a new batch of memories flowed through. This time it was filled with situations that denoted anxiety, worry, pain of having loved and lost and the general hardship of being nothing more than a Descendant. So far all he could tell that this memories centered around one person but he wasn’t sure _who_?

“Oh dear me!” Aziraphale blinked as finally the headache started to fade down, “Oh...oh,”

“What happened?”

“I got a flood of memories that most definitely don’t belong to me. It’s the most peculiar thing,” Aziraphale faced her with a sincere look of bewilderment on his face.

“Are you sure they aren’t just...I don’t know repressed memories?” Anathema asked with a good of a guess as any. She was about ready to conjure up a healing spell, but then again Aziraphale could snap himself right as rain.

“I am sure of it. Most of my memories are centered around important events that mean something to me and half of them are with Crowley. One of those memories is of us vacationing in a seaside town but that was in Italy in the early 1800s!”

“Wait so you saw a town by the sea?” She felt better about things when Aziraphale seemed to recover quickly from the unexpected painful ordeal.

“Yes, but this one was too modern.”

Anathema had a quizzical countenance, but quickly returned her focus to the more important issue, “That is interesting...but let’s worry about it later. Right now, we need to focus on Crowley!”

“Yes, quite right. Let’s get a wiggle on then!” Aziraphale declared and the two darted up the stairs and into Crowley’s flat. It wasn’t too long to find the demon. Aziraphale led the way due to his non human senses and they both found him unconscious in the former plant room.


	5. Chapter 5

Aziraphale immediately rushed over to pick him up into his arm. Thank whoever he was still alive. But worryingly he can feel his energy levels were low. Thankfully it was nothing a good long healing rest couldn’t cure. Crowley was tucked in under the blankets and Anathema helped covered him up. The demon came out of it and groggily looked between the two of them. He looked strangely confused as if he wasn’t sure where he was at. Which is what the other two reasonably thought off. It would make sense that Crowley would be disoriented to a degree.

“Oh my dear Crowley I am so glad that you were alright. What happened?” Aziraphale placed a comforting hand on his forehead and emitted a wave of calm and peaceful bliss over his tired body. An unspoken promise that he’ll be whisked off to pleasant dreams. Meanwhile, Anathema had emitted a healing spell of her own over Crowley. Great relief had rained down over them that Crowley was going to be alright. 

From what she learned, as a witch, she was able to do more with healing a demon than say an angel. Luckily Crowley didn’t have too many physical injuries. Mentally might be a whole different story, but they would have to see.

Crowley groaned as he fought to become lucid enough. It was a losing battle as his body demanded rest. However he did manage to get one sentence out in a moment of lucidity.

“You two are...are bloody fucking _idiots_!” He said cryptically before he fell into a deep slumber. However, both Anathema and Aziraphale stared at him with blindsided shock.

“Idiots?! And who pray tell was the one that let his plants run amuck by treating them horrendously!? You, my dear, are calling the pot black!” Aziraphale shot back. Unfortunately Crowley did not hear him (nor Anathema) due to being fast asleep.

“It’s kettle Aziraphale, Crowley called the kettle black,” Anathema informed before she laid her equally pissed off glare at the figure in bed and spat out incredously, “I wasn’t the one who fucking yelled at his plants day in and day out! If anything _you’re_ the fucking..._pendejo_ Crowley!”

________________________________

Crowley slept for about three full days. That was how long his body needed to recuperate. In the meantime, Anathema had gone back home with a promise that she’ll be updated on his well being while Aziraphale stayed at the flat. There wasn’t much to note once Crowley had woken up. 

It was the standard song and dance really. Aziraphale fretted over him for the next day in an attempt to make sure he was truly alright. And Crowley decided to wait until he got over the fact that his plants had turned against him before he decided to reveal why he had called both Aziraphale and Anathema idiots. 

All of those factors led to almost a week after the fact, mainly because she and Newt already had something going on the previous day. Crowley paced around in a circle in the backroom of Aziraphale’s bookshop. Said bookshop owner sat on the couch as they waited to Anathema to arrive.

(Crowley had reluctantly waited another day as he wanted to answer the elephant in the room as soon as possible).

“I still don’t really understand what Anathema has to do with whatever it is you want to tell me?” Aziraphale said just as confused as ever before. He failed to see what this had to do with her since it didn’t had anything to do with witch based magic. Why would they need to wait for her presence otherwise, “You said it was something ethereal based did you not? In that case she has nothing to do with this. I mean that is...err...aside from her being friends with us.”

Crowley stopped pacing in order to look dead straight in the eye towards his criminally oblivious angel. It was adorable really when it wasn’t infuriating. Which was most of the time if he was really, really honest with himself, “Because like I said before angel this is one of those dealios where it involves a human and guess who the human is in this case.” He finished rhetorically with a generous hint of sarcasm.

Aziraphale settled back into silence while he maintained the same post for the past hour. He sat up straight with his hands clasped together in his lap. Crowley checked his phone every other second, he had told Anathema to give him a text when she arrived. He let out an annoyed murmur of impatience, which really wasn’t justified. He was anxious to get this over with and frankly, so did Aziraphale. 

He knew it must be that important if Crowley was willing to wait for someone else to be available. Anathema had told him she’ll be there bright and early and now it was five minutes past nine am. Suddenly the long awaited ding of a text message rang and Crowley let all his irritation fade away into relief. Crowley snapped and sent a quick reply before he sharply turned back to Aziraphale. 

“I’ll be back, stay here angel,” He instructed as he made his way to the backroom door. 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes with fond sarcasm, “It’s not like I had plans to suddenly teleport elsewhere behind your back,” It was silly since Crowley didn’t seem to be too pissed off at him. However, a small part of him felt like he and Anathema were about to be grounded by their dad.

“Going by Paris, you could. Never hurts to be cautious,” Crowley lightly quipped back over his shoulder before he walked back into the shop proper.

Crowley walked purposefully over to the young witch, the air around him remained just serious enough. Anathema, of course, picked up on that, “What’s going on Crowley? I still don’t understand why you insisted I had to make an impromptu trip down here. Not that I don’t like coming here.”

“That makes you and angel both,” Crowley absentmindedly said with a vague air of annoyance as he stopped right in front of her. He put his hands together and decided to cut to the chase, “Listen the reason why I insisted I tell you this both in person is because this is one of those things that shouldn’t be relegated to a measly phone call or text.”

A look of confusion settled on her face, “So whatever it is, you think its that big? Enough that I absolutely fucking need to be here? The only big thing I can think of is your plants getting out of hand.” Anathema bluntly said with an even tone.

“That is true, and I am very, very grateful you and Aziraphale saved me. I was starting to think my time had come in a...very embarrassing way but that isn’t a life changing event. See I came out no more changed for the worst. At the most I’ll...probably have nightmares given who I am and I’ll get over it but _you_,” He pointed at her a bit more foreboding - and irritatingly just as cryptic as before - than he meant it, “You book girl are forevermore a part of us.” 

“What?” Crowley had slung an arm around her and began to casually lead her to the back, “What do you mean by that Crowley?” She looked at him with a look that demanded an answer or else. It certainly annoyed her to a level when Crowley - or anyone for that matter - decided that being vague and mysteriously subtle was the way to go when it came to explanation. She found those types of people usually tended to assume people can just read their damn minds.

“I’ll tell you in a second,” Crowley gently directed to sit next to Aziraphale as he snapped the door closed.

“Did he tell you anything?” She asked as she sat down and made herself comfortable.

Aziraphale shook his head, she noticed he looked about as exasperated as she was, “Nary a word Ms. Anathema.”

As soon as Azirphale finished, Crowley clapped his hands to get their attention. He had all the demeanor of a boss that was about to lay down some bad news that involved a few of his employees. He took a good mildly sharp exhale before he began, “Alright…I don’t even know where to start, except you two committed the _biggest_ mistake in the history of mistakes!”

“Oh really now Crowley?! That is clearly an-” Azirapahle shot up from the couch.

“Shut it Aziraphale and sit down!” He hissed and Aziraphale thought better of it. It was always better whenever Crowley was ticked off at him for whatever reason. Crowley directed his gaze from him to the both of them in general, “I sensed something was different between you two in the brief moment I was awake the other day.”

Anathema glared at him as she abruptly got up and stormed right up to the demon’s face. She wasn’t afraid either to jab a finger in his direction, “If you’re trying to say that my soul is now tainted enough to earn a straight descent into Hell then I already had a damn idea since I started being an occultist!” She yelled with a straitlaced tone.

“I didn’t say that...if anything you now have a fast one way ticket to Heaven thanks to the Angel of the Idiots!” Crowley gestured to Aziraphale which just riled him up a bit more. He felt the most affronted in recent days. He stood up and closed the few paces between him and the other two.

“I very much resent that remark Crowley!” Aziraphale shouted with a short huff, his eyes narrowed into a glare.

“Yeah well I feel justified in saying it cause you _fucking_ committed a Blood Deal Aziraphale!” Crowley got up to within an inch of Aziraphale’s face, “Of all the _bloody_ risks you have done angel...what the hell did you two do?! Anathema was it blood magic?” 

Anathema could only quickly nod, she got the right vibe that this was some serious stuff. She finally understood completely why Crowley wanted to wait to tell them both at the same time. Her mind still reeled from the blindsided revelation from the agitated demon.


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley turned his disapproving glare back to Aziraphale. The angel felt a sudden unspoken pressure to explain himself then and there, “Well we destroyed the plants completely! Anathema had done a spell that allowed us to control the plants. And err well...um...we both weren’t sure if we were to hold hands to ensure that I would be able to help and...and...oh Lord it’s all my fault-” Aziraphale lamented right as he immediately cut off by Anathema.

“_So hold on...WHAT?! Are you seriously telling me that my soul is now his!?_” Anathema shouted with such stunned incredulity that her mind reverted to Spanish. Her voice boomed to all corners of the room as much as a human voice could, “_Look granted I don’t know too much of the truth with angels and demons but I am finding that hard to believe! Only demons can do that!”_

“_With all due respect Anathema but...how can you be smarter than most humans and yet be so dense! Think for a second book girl, angels and demons came from the same stock right? And Angel was able to possess Madame Tracy so what’s to say an angel can’t make a Blood Deal.”_ Crowley yelled back with the same volume. 

“_But...but everything I’ve read in the occult and religious based text didn’t imply angels can make Deals too!”_

Crowley let out a brief put upon groan as he looked up at the ceiling than back down towards the witch. If Anathema hadn’t been his friend, he would’ve just plain ignored all of this. And probably more annoyed too as well. Aziraphale, meanwhile, started to feel more confused once he realize English wasn’t being spoken, “_Everything you learned in churches and books all came from misunderstood zealous idiots and have been nothing but exaggerated lies! Most of you humans don’t have one iota of a clue about what really goes on. Contrary to common belief Heaven is more like Hell than actual Hell!”_

Anathema was about ready to hit Crowley back with another counterpoint when she paused long enough to discern the evidence. Any hot hotheadedness she might have felt quickly died down. She was at the airbase when Gabriel and Beelzebub showed up after all, “_That...actually would make sense. I’ve gotten a little more of a weird negative vibe from Aziraphale's former boss than yours.”_

Just then Aziraphale had cleared his throat loud enough to catch the attention of the other two, “I’m terribly sorry but could you both please speak in English? I don’t understand a lick of Espanol.”

Now it was Anathema’s cue to let out low, almost agonized groan, much in the same energy as Crowley’s earlier. At the same time, Crowley verbalized what Anathema thought after a second or two passed in dead silence, “It’s Spanish angel! You can say Spanish!”

“But that doesn’t sound too-“

“It’s fine!” Anathema repeated before she took a deep breath. She started to get a dull ache from the weight of the load. Resigned to this...mildly mind-blowing defeat, she sat back down on the couch with a certain air of weariness. Not that she was stubbornly in denial, but it frustrated her on some small level that all evidence she had pointed to Crowley being right. And she wasn’t really too surprised at _that_ truth bomb to be honest, “I need a drink.”

Crowley must’ve silently agreed with that assessment because he materialized a bottle of whiskey. One for him and one for her. This topic was something one needed the aid of alcohol for. Aziraphale took the cue to walk over and grab a vintage whiskey bottle for himself. He uncorked it and drank a good portion down.

Crowley took a swig before he plowed ahead, the mood back down to calmer levels, “Alright so...back to the main topic, what exactly did you two do while casting the spell?” Crowley’s voice was casual just enough tinge of seriousness to denote that he still meant business. 

“We drawn up a blood sigil ‘cause that what the book told us to do,” Anathema supplied. She explained how each user had to provide their part which explained Aziraphale’s involvement, “We really weren’t sure about all the details…” She admitted softly with a regretful sigh, “Aziraphale suggested we hold hands to maximize effectiveness.”

Crowley sharply turned his narrowed eyes to Aziraphale. The angel immediately felt like he was but a wilted flower under his tried to help mitigate what surely be Crowley’s decidedly not calm reaction, “There really was no time for dilly dallying Crowley and err...your life was on the line and...and if I had known this was such a thing angels can do I never would have suggested it!.“ 

“So you decided not to stop to think for one second-“

“Crowley please we both really didn’t want you to succumb to those…plants. We both care about you very much.”

“I understand and I’m very grateful you two rescued me. I was beginning to think I was coming to a very, very undignified end but the thing I don’t get angel-” Crowley punctuated the last few words for greater emphasis, “-is why in the blessed Hell didn’t you stop to think about what else angels can do?! You were able to possess right?”

“Yes. Not sure I’m able to possess a demon though.”

“That part doesn’t matter, point isss….you made a Blood Deal cause you weren’t thinking!” 

Covering the side of his face with a pale hand, a lone tear raced down his cheek, was it remorse? Probably, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, really I am...it’s not like I did it on purpose!” Aziraphale tried to reasonably protest, though it felt futile.

Crowley’s face soften and let out a fond affectionate sigh. It was always hard to stay too mad at the angel, even when it’s over something big, “I know.”

Anathema put a comforting hand on his shoulder, “It’s alright Aziraphale, not really your fault. I can think of worse people to own my soul if they were demons...or ethereal beings rather,” Anathema reassures him before she directed her attention to Crowley, “So what does this mean for me?”

“Immortality pretty much. Well, as long as Aziraphale is alive. He could also change your appearance and command you to do whatever. In theory, doubt he actually would.” Crowley added to quell down any potential sudden volatile reaction. Not that he was afraid Anathema would, but anyone had that chance if they were told they permanent lost of control. Especially if they weren’t aware they accidentally did the thing that led up to that situation.

Aziraphale removed his hand to give a pleaded, hopeful look at Crowley, “Is there any way to reverse this?”

“I think you can figure out the answer to that.” 

“Oh…” His face crumbled, a self directed reproachful gaze settled in his eyes. Depleted of hope that there was a way to fix this. At least Anathema didn’t seem to freak out too much. Maybe the implications just hadn’t hit her yet, one would think a human might be more emotive after given the news that they’ll outlive their family and friends.

Aziraphale spared another glance over to Anathema and noticed she just about downed the entire bottle. She seemed to have the right idea in terms of how to handle this in the present moment. Either deal and wade through the long term consequences now or put it off and drown it all out with alcohol. 

Present company considered to any hypothetical outside observer, one could accurately assume which option the three would choose. Anathema did mentally decided, alongside getting plastered, that there was capability to quickly get used to it. After all, she did have a couple of very good friends with her.


End file.
